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January 31, 2005

Definition of the passive-aggressive liberal arts-major feminist wife: after a tiff with the Mister, she goes to the bookshelf and very showily pulls out The Golden Notebook, remarking, "Well, it's certainly been a long time since I read this..." with a loud sigh.

Not that I would do such a thing.

In other news: a playbook for pretending that Social Security privatization (note I didn't say "personalization" as I do not expect that the GOP plan involves monogrammed towels or clicky pens with my name on it) is emerging and goddamn if it isn't just irritating me; a disturbing number of high school students hate the free press -- presumably these are the same high school students who are also huffing glue (I recently got carded when I bought superglue, so I know the kids today are still doing this!); a train derailed near Pittsburgh today, causing me to call my mom to make sure her skin had not all burned off (it had not); and finally, who wants to go see the revival of Hurlyburly with me?

January 30, 2005

I survived another epic weekend of girlie fun and antics. We managed to shop, eat two dinners within as many hours, and bar-hop from the East Village to, uh, the Village to the hotel bar where we were staying. (Re: the hotel. I am so sick of puking on NJ Transit, as I have mentioned before, so I am all about the Manhattan hotel room these days -- I am too old for drunk train rides! So we stayed in a spendy but slightly past it's hipness expiration date, and it was generally a positive experience. I could go on, but you know, I think that says it all, really.)

I broke a fingernail and went to sleep without filing it down and this morning I woke up to find that in my sleep, I'd clawed myself scratching my collarbone! So the experience was not entirely injury-free, but happily, I did not faceplant in the slow (hello, how am I supposed to wear insane heels if they are not going to remove the snow?!?).

I also carded a boy who tried to hit on me and then delivered a stern lecture on how seventeen year olds have no business at bars and advised him to go drink in someone's parents' garage like we did back in my day! On a bit of a roll, I then lectured another guy about how: a) "Nice rack!" is not ever going to work; and b) ranking groups of women friends in a bar will likely get you a kick in the crotch. Ladies of NYC, I am doing you a public service here, keeping these thugs in line, and you can thank me later.

Additionally, I got the most superb fucking compliment on Friday! Hurrah for perfect compliments!

Now I'm back home with the best husband in the world, who is not even annoyed with me for being too sleepy to grocery shop! So really, with the exception of the collarbone scratches, I give the whole experience five stars.

January 28, 2005

Hi all. I have been buried in snow and blankets these past few days, no time for posting! I am disturbed to report that I actually said to Mr. Pink yesterday, "No, man, it's totally going to be warm this weekend -- like, in the 20s!" He just looked at me pityingly.

But here's some stuff I've been thinking about and not saying:

How completely unshocking that another conservative columnist was caught taking payments for creating propoganda for the Bush administration! You know, Mr. Pink is a writer, I wonder if we could get us some dirty money! How do you apply for a job like that, I wonder. Perhaps, though, that's why the Republicans want to raise more money to get Bush's message out there -- buying journalistic integrity is so expensive these days! Like, what? Isn't this guy the President or something? He can't get any column space? Really, you have to marvel at how stupid the GOP believes its donors to be. (Or maybe I should say, how stupid anyone who's writing a check to them actually is.)

Helmut Lang quitting Helmut Lang. Uh, the second "Helmut Lang" being his label. Dude, what the fuck's going on over at Prada?

I heard yesterday that they are contemplating the death penalty for that guy who put his vehicle on the train track in California. Now, surely I am not the only person who thinks that the death penalty is kind of a crappy punishment for someone who is suicidal, right? I mean, even putting aside the whole "I don't believe in the death penalty" thing...

The Oscar noms kind of annoyed me this year. While it's obviously a very open race, I don't know, it just irks me that Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind did not get enough love. Hmph! Of course, I thought The Aviator was brilliant, but not in the same way. (Did I tell you guys how, when we went to see it with my parents in Pittsburgh, apparently a lot of the people in the theater were, like, unfamiliar with Howard Hughes? Occasionally, one of them would whisper, "Oh my God, this guy was a real whackjob!" Ha!)

OK. I'm going to NYC this weekend with all my bitches, as those of you who read TJ's weblog already know. I even shaved my legs for the occasion! But yeah, typically, I am not packed and my weekender bag is covered with a thick layer of cat hair, so must dash! The lint brush is calling!

January 24, 2005

No, no, I am okay, people. Thanks for all your kind emails and prayers and whatnot. But you know, New England, both the region and the football team, has been trying to kill me for some time, and so I am not entirely surprised. Le sigh.

Last night, deep in denial, I tried to rationalize, as all people who have been through a trauma do. I briefly blamed our "good luck" cat for jumping off my lap when they went for the field goal rather than the touchdown (confidential to Cowher: winners have balls, losers take the field goal); the appearance of Big Ben in a Chunky soup commercial (which any fool knows is as bad a curse as being on the cover of the Madden video game, for fuck's sake!); and my drop-off in church attendance over the past year...but at the end of the day, I guess the blame only can fall on Cowher and Roethlisberger. Dammit.

P.S. - And we can say a very probable goodbye to Plax, I guess. Fucking A!

January 23, 2005

Since I am so fidgety over football, I decided to try and be zen with knitting weblog reading. Anyway, I came across The Red Scarf Project via The Knitty Gritty and am delighted that I finally have something to do with this red eyelash yarn I inherited a while ago. So, you know, everyone, there's a little project for you.

This reminds me, speaking of knitting -- I am working up the Contessa Shawl from Morehouse Merino, which is a nice, mindless knit with a gorgeous vareigated yarn. So, you know, thumbs-the-hell-up to Morehouse, yet again.

I couldn't sleep at all last night due to football-related stress! Nightmares, fitful tossing and turning, etc.

Being a big Steelers fan, I am like a lot of people who really love their team -- I develop seasonal OCD. Like, I'm not able to do this or that because it may be bad luck. This morning, for example, I didn't allow myself to straighten my hair or wear pink underwear because they are both bad in some way I can't even really explain. Mr. Pink has not washed his black Steelers sweatshirt since the season started. The most stupid shit becomes regulated by some delusional idea that if you eat the wrong kind of cereal for breakfast, the team's loss is totally your fault! (And not, you know, the fucking glove Ben Roethlisberger has been wearing, fuckfuckfuck!) Anyway, good to know that at least I am not alone with the anxiety. (Sounds like the whole city is on the verge of developing an ulcer, actually, eh?)

January 20, 2005

As I am still quite infatuated with the Christmas iPod, I present a meme thanks to Cyn, who got it from the Clap Clap Blog.

The rules:

A) Open up the music player on your computer.

B) Set it to play your entire music collection.

C) Hit the "shuffle" command.

D) Tell us the title of the next ten songs that show up (with their musicians), no matter how embarrassing. That's right, no skipping that Carpenters tune that will totally destroy your hip credibility. It's time for total musical honesty. Write it up in your blog or journal and link back to at least a couple of the other sites where you saw this.

E) If you get the same artist twice, you may skip the second (or third, or etc.) occurances. You don't have to, but since randomness could mean you end up with a list of ten song with five artists, you can if you'd like.

The results here? Apparently my iPod is hella sexist! All boys! Hmph!

1) A Distorted Reality Is Now A Necessity To Be Free - Elliot Smith
2) Dreams - Sebadoh
3) In the City - The Jam
4) Uptown Girl - Me First & the Gimmie Gimmies
5) Just One Thing - My Morning Jacket
6) In the Aeroplane Over the Sea - Neutral Milk Hotel
7) Unite - The Beastie Boys
8) I Don't Believe You (She Acts Like We Never Have Met) - Bob Dylan
9) Hearts of Oak - Teo Leo & the Pharmacists
10) I Spy - Pulp

In honor of the Inauguration, I give you the "50 Most Loathsome" blip about why Bush was included (at #6):

Crimes: Too numerous to mention. The worst piece of shit ever to run this country, including King George III; when’s the last time a president made half his country want to move to Canada? Lays claim to the legacy of Jesus Christ as he hungrily sucks what little life-essence is left from the world. Appears to be only dimly aware that he is destroying the future, but seems to think it’s kind of funny.

Yeah, that's about right! And one more, because I love it so much, on Rumsfeld (#2):

Carries himself in press conferences like a cranky grandfather who is sick of hearing his daughters whine about how he molested them every now and then.